


Hearts Break, Hearts Mend

by Blackbird_singing



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (sort of), Alternate Future, Cop!Derek, Dad!Derek, Derek Hale THIS IS YOUR LIFE, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, It's a Wonderful Life, Kidfic, M/M, Marriage, Memory Loss, Post season 3a, alpha!Scott, au - canon, beta!derek, dad!stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-11-06
Packaged: 2018-01-15 17:10:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1312690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackbird_singing/pseuds/Blackbird_singing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Injured, poisoned, and in very real danger of dying, Derek staggers up to the Stilinski house barely coherent and roaring for Stiles barely managing to get the words “Wolfsbane, hunters” and “sorry” out before losing consciousness.</p>
<p>When he wakes up he’s flat on his back in a familiar yard, his own, the Hale house has been rebuilt, and there’s a tiny werewolf girl on the verge of hysterics looking down at him… and she’s calling Stiles daddy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Teen Wolf Fic!  
> I decided to start posting this as a chaptered work instead of a one shot in an attempt to force me to work on it faster :3
> 
> Un-Beta'd so many apologies for any mistakes

 

Derek staggered, slamming his injured side into Stiles’ blue jeep, his vision whiting out with the pain.

He grit his teeth against the black bile rising in his throat , but to no avail, and promptly vomited all over the side of the vehicle.

He grimaced, staring blearily at the dark stains, he was never going to live this down…

 

...assuming he lived at all.

Pushing off of the jeep he managed to make it to the Stilinski’s front door, Stiles’ window (his usual point of entry) far out of the question in his current state, and beat on it with bloody palms, roaring for Stiles before his legs gave out.

He must have blacked out.

He was inside, and cool hands were bracketing his face. Derek frowned trying to focus, as Stiles snapped orders out to someone he couldn't see.

“--olfsbane. Call Deaton, he’ll have a few different kinds on hand.”

Slowly he convinced his neck muscles to cooperate and tilted his head so that the grim-faced Sheriff came into his view.

“Got it.” The man nodded tilting his head towards Derek “Stiles…”

“Oh thank god, Derek? You with me big guy?”

The room swam in front of him before Stiles came back into view, his smile was probably aiming for reassuring, but came off looking a bit manic instead.

“Wolfsbane…” he grit out and Stiles’ head bobbed

“Yeah, I see that.” his amber eyes lighting on the faintly glowing holes in Derek’s stomach and left side, the veins around them already mapping a spidery black path on his skin “Deaton will be here soon, just stay with me okay? Because I swear to God Derek, if you die in my living room I will straight up move, and then where will your pack be?”

Derek huffed weakly

“Who did this to you?”

“Hunters.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, “I figured, not many other people go around punching holes in werewolves for fun.”

“Not Argent.”

“Well, thank god for small miracles.”

He felt too warm, blackness encroaching on the corners of his vision as the wolfsbane burned through him.

The Sheriff was back.

“Deaton’s enroute,” the man crouched down next to his son, placing a reassuring hand between his shoulderblades.

“S’rry…” he slurred not entirely sure which Stilinski he was addressing anymore, it was too dark to see. “...puked... on th’ jeep…”

“...What?”

“Hey, stay awake kid!”

“Derek? DEREK!”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Wake UP!”

Derek shot up to a sitting position, immediately regretting it when his head exploded in pain. Groaning he curled forward, gingerly cupping a hand over the back of his head and resting his forehead on his knees.

“Fuck…” he breathed and heard a tiny intake of breath to his right.

“...you said a bad word.”

Derek tilted his head cracking an eye open, next to him a small girl with wild ginger hair and dark eyes regarded him very seriously.

“...sorry.” he mumbled, watching her scrub tears out of one eye with a palm. He unfolded slightly, freezing up when she climbed on to his lap sniffling, wrapping tiny arms around his neck.

“You wouldn’t wake up, are you okay?”

Eyes wide,and head still pounding, he stared at the top of her head mutely for a moment before scanning his surroundings. He wasn’t at the Stilinski’s anymore, this was the edge of his property, but he couldn’t remember how he got there. It wasn’t until he spotted the house, standing proud, it’s white siding tinted yellow in the afternoon sun, that he really began to freak out.

Disengaging from the little girl he staggered to his feet with a broken noise, only making it a few stumbled steps before the dizziness forced him down again, gagging as his stomach voided its contents once again. He flopped to one side pushing heel of his palms into his eyes until he saw muted bursts of light. Distantly he heard the sound of Stiles’ jeep skidding haphazardly to a halt in the driveway under what was quickly becoming shrill crying from the little girl.

“Derek?!” Stiles’ worried voice called from the direction of two sets of running footsteps, a body dropped to it’s knees next to him “Check Lo, would you Scott?”

Scott sniffed, making an affirmative noise and murmuring “He’s still bleeding, no wolfsbane.” before moving over to calm the hysterical child.

 

Cool hands touched his face and neck and he tried not to lean into it.

“Christ, did you throw up? what happened?” Stiles’ voice was tense with worry “I was out shopping with Scott when suddenly he says you’re hurt and shoves me into the passenger seat of my own Jeep.”

Derek tried to answer but ended up just pressing his lips back together against the nausea, shaking his head tightly.

“Check his head, might be a concussion.” Scott sounded closer now

“Dude, can werewolves get concussions?” Stiles asks, sliding his fingers gently through Derek’s hair. It felt wonderful, right up until the point Stiles reached the base of his head. He curled into himself whining in pain.

“--rek! Derek, oh god, I’m so sorry…Scott, it’s a mess back there.”

“Here.” there was a shuffling and suddenly Scott’s scent was much closer, replacing Stiles. Derek whined again at the loss. “Oh, yeah gross. There’s something stuck in his skull.”

“Jesus, Scott. Don’t describe it, she’s probably going to need therapy as it is.”

“I’m not afraid!” a tiny voice chirped

“Of course you aren’t baby, Daddy’s the only one who’s going to need therapy.”

_What?_

He was about to attempt to open his eyes again when he felt a wrenching at the back of his skull, and then nothing.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He woke again to quiet voices.

“...said he might have some minor memory or fine motor control problems for a day or two. No, no he’s fine Dad, not a scratch left on him.”  there was a pause, then Stiles laughed quietly “Surprisingly she’s pretty okay with it. She was really upset at first, but I think that had more to do with the fact that he didn’t shake it off right away, and she thought she was going to get in trouble for being in places we expressly told her not to go. Scott and I explained it to her, and I’m pretty sure she thinks she’s the daughter of Jason Bourne now.”

Derek cracked an eye open, he was inside again. He scanned the unfamiliar room finally settling on where Stiles watched him near the window, eyebrow raised, dressed in loose pajama pants and a well worn “Beacon Hills PD” shirt that looked too big on him.

 

“Yeah… yeah, Dad? He’s up so I’m going to let you go, okay? Yup, see you in the morning. Bye.”  He tossed his phone on a nearby desk crossing quickly over to the bed and sitting cross legged on the empty side. He smiled softly, touching Derek’s arm. “Hey.”

“Hey…” Derek’s voice came out rough and gravelly with sleep. His eyes locked on where Stiles was still touching him.

“How are you feeling? You scrambled your egg pretty good back there.”

Derek snorted, opening his mouth to retort, but when he caught sight of Stiles up close all he managed to blurt out was “You’re old.”

Stiles barked out a startled laugh “Wow, way to flatter a guy.”

But it was true, Stiles had filled out. His eyes sparkling mirthfully out of a face no longer softened by youth. All cheekbones and a strong jaw, faint smile lines just beginning to form at the corners of his eyes. He ran a thumb over Derek’s temple “I hate to break it to you, but I’m not the one going all Reed Richards. That’d be you.” he smirked “Not that you’re not still a total WILF, but you know… pot, kettle…”

His eyebrows furrowed “...a what?”

Stiles grinned rakishly “Wolf I’d like to fu--”

“STILES!” Derek scrambled upright against the headboard eyes flashing blue.

Stiles looked startled leaning back with his hands up “Wow, okay. That’s...not the response I was expecting.”

“What happened? Where are we?” he growled tightly gripping the bed through a mild wave of vertigo. “What about the hunters?”

Stiles’ eyes narrowed “Hunters? Derek what are you talking about?”

“Hunters, Stiles, the kind that shot me. Twice. With wolfsbane bullets.” the other man still looked completely lost and Derek felt panic bubbling low in his gut “I barely made it to your house. I... vomited all over your jeep?”

Stiles’ expression fell flat.

“I am going to punch Deaton in the throat.”

Derek blanched “What?”

“Minor memory loss, he says,” Stiles spits the words like venom “Derek that was over twelve years ago, is that seriously the last thing you remember?”

He felt himself go cold. “Twelve…?”

Stiles expression softened “Hey… it’s okay.” he reached out slowly, as if Derek were a frightened animal.

Maybe he was.

“Why don’t you just…” he gently tugged at Derek coaxing him back into a supine position.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have blurted it out like that.” he blew out a frustrated breath scrubbing his hand through his hair. “Is there anything I can do? Because you look like you want to puke again.”

Derek swallowed heavily, throwing an arm over his eyes “I’m okay, just… what happened?”

Stiles hummed “Well, from what Scott and I could gather from Lo, you were playing chase with her, when she climbed up into that deathtrap of a treehouse. When she refused to come back down you went up to get her, and...well...” the bed shifted as he sat against the headboard. “You ended up with a chunk of wood in the base of your skull when the whole thing came down.”

“Lo… the little girl? She’s a wolf?”

Silence.

“She’s yours right? I heard you talking before.” he moved his arm peeking at Stiles, who was staring at him, looking gutted. “Stiles?”

He cleared his throat “Yeah, she is…. Both, she’s both.”

Derek’s eyebrows furrowed in the heavy awkward silence that followed.

“Lo...Short for Lois?” he tried joking, but it only made Stiles tense and look away, his fingers drumming nervously on his knees.

“No...um, it’s short for Laura.”

Derek blanched, his eyes stuck on where Stiles was fidgeting with a gold band on the ring finger of his left hand, a triskele etched on the surface in scrolling black. He found the matching ring on his own.

“Ours…” he breathed,  “...she’s ours?”

Stiles nodded tightly, his smile looking small and wrong

“Laura Claudia Stilinski-Hale.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things still aren't making much sense...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still un-beta'd  
> Hopefully there aren't too many mistakes :)

Morning was not kind to Derek.

He had barely slept after Stiles had left, muttering something about sleeping in a guest room, and by the time the sun had rose whatever sleep he had actually managed to get had been plagued with dreams of pain, wolfsbane, and voices calling out frantically in the dark.

He stumbled out of bed, shuffling around the room on unsteady feet, and managed to open two closets before finding the door to the en-suite bathroom. He turned on the faucet, splashing cool water on his face and taking a few mouthfuls from his cupped palm before he felt even remotely awake enough to tackle the day.

Scrubbing his face dry he finally caught his own reflection in the large mirror over the sink.

His hair was longer, sticking up in wild peaks from his restless night, and had a sprinkling of grey right at his temples. His own red rimmed eyes stared blearily out of a pale face, and he could see a smudge of dark dried blood someone missed on the back of his neck.

Mirror Derek looked like shit.

Grimacing he reached automatically for a toothbrush to at least banish the horrible taste in his mouth. Only to realize there was more than one, and he had no idea which was his.

Which is, of course how the Sheriff found him. Glaring balefully at a pair of red and blue brushes in a ceramic Tardis shaped holder.

The older man knocked lightly at the door frame, regarding him with an arched eyebrow.

“The blue one.” he supplied helpfully

Thanking him gruffly Derek brushed as if his teeth had personally offended him, the elder Stilinski watching him quietly for a moment before giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“I’ll go put some coffee on, take your time and come on down when you’re ready, okay son?”

 

He smiled gently patting Derek’s arm before retreating from the room, leaving Derek to stare after him dumbly, a blue toothbrush hanging from his mouth.

A quick shower later and Derek was following the sound of the Sheriff on a phone call to the kitchen. The man smiled at him holding up an apologetic hand as Derek slid on to a stool near him at the island.

“A few days, yeah. Thanks Parrish, call if you need me, otherwise I’ll be in later.” Stilinski slid over a coffee to Derek as he ended the call.

Derek fidgeted, staring into the black liquid as he wrapped his fingers around the hot mug.

“Derek?”

“Sir?”

He made a choked off sound and Derek’s eyes snapped back to his face to find barely concealed amusement. “John, please. I think we passed the days of you calling me sir back when you married my son.”

Derek tensed blowing a slow breath out through his nose. “Married...right.”

He set his mug back on the island rubbing his hands roughly over his face.

The Sheriff sobered “You okay?”

He laughed brokenly “I don’t know. I don’t… how did this even…?” he took a breath attempting to stave off the panic he felt building in his chest “How is it that Stiles ended up married to me?”

The Sheriff raised an eyebrow “Now, normally I might take offence to that on my son’s behalf, but I get the feeling this isn’t about Stiles, is it?”

Derek shook his head dumbly “Why me?”

“Pardon?”

“Why did he choose me? I have no prospects, no family, no pack, I can’t even protect what’s mine, I--” He took a shuddering breath squeezing his eyes shut “and Stiles is so... he has a future, why would he throw that away to be with me?”

“Aw, kid…” a warm hand gripped the back of his neck, guiding him to his feet and into a rough embrace. Derek stiffened, his arms hovering at his sides.

The Sheriff chuckled moving back a little to grasp Derek’s shoulders  

“Better just give in to it, son. Stilinski men hug it out.” He smiled gently, patting Derek on the arm before turning away and snatching a jacket off of the chair, tossing it to him.

“C’mon.” he grinned “Let’s see if I can’t counter all of your arguments.”

Sliding his arms into the worn leather he numbly followed the other man out to the cruiser.

The Sheriff spent the morning driving them around town, pointing out landmarks and amiably filling in parts of the gaping hole in Derek’s life.

Stiles is a teacher.

Stiles teaches Advanced Mythology & Folklore at Beacon Hills Community College, and he loves his job, loves his life.

He loves Derek.

They’ve been married for 10 years, parents for 6.

Laura was the baby daughter of a pair of omega’s who wandered in to town, looking for a pack to take her in. They left her on Alpha McCall’s doorstep, having heard of his “infinite compassion”...Stiles and Derek had fallen in love immediately.

They named her for Derek’s sister, and Stiles’ mom.

Scott is Derek’s alpha.

Derek is the second highest ranking member of the McCall pack.

Derek has a family, has a pack.

He let out a shuddering breath, rubbing his hands over his face as the Sheriff rolled to a stop in front of the police station.

“You okay?”

He huffed “As compared to what?”

The older man nodded “Fair enough...you know why I stopped here?”

Derek glanced out the window frowning slightly “You’re about to tell me about how many more times Stiles has had me wrongfully arrested?”

The Sheriff laughs shaking his head as he climbs out of the car. “Fortunately no, we’re here about your prospects.”

Derek’s eyes widened as he scrambled to follow the older man inside, weaving through desks of officers towards the sheriff’s office.

“Deputy Hale?”

He startled, Parrish stood across the room talking to a tall blonde officer, but Derek couldn’t see her face.

Derek leaned towards the sheriff “Deputy?”

“Chief Deputy, actually…” he whispered back as the other man jogged over.

“Hey, are you alright? The Sheriff said you’d be on medical leave for a few days.”

“Yeah, um…”

“He’ll be alright” Stilinski patted him on the back “Just a concussion, he’ll be back to normal in no time, if I can convince him to take it easy. He just wanted to stop in and grab a few things, you know how Derek is.” the older man smiled conspiratorially.

Parrish grinned back as if he did indeed “know how Derek was”.

Derek frowned.

“Well I’ll leave you to it, feel better Derek.” the deputy waved a friendly hand as he jogged back over to… presumably his partner. The woman turned around regarding him warmly with smirking brown eyes and ruby colored lips, and Derek felt like all of the air had been punched out of him.

“Derek?” The Sheriff gripped his arm when he wavered “Hey, are you alright?”

He still couldn’t breathe, his lungs burned but he couldn’t look away.

Erica looked at him sadly for a moment before blowing him a kiss, then Parrish passed in front of her and she was gone.

****  
He felt a sharp pain in his stomach, and the floor rushed up to meet him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, I'm attempting to not be the world's slowest writer XD  
> I was recently hocking my wares at a convention in Chicago, so the prep for that took a LONG time and I ended up not writing for a few week there...  
> ...then last weekend was spent mainlining Hemlock Grove...  
> ...I have no excuses...  
> ::hides::
> 
> COME HARASS ME (if you want) :D  
> http://bravehearttegan.tumblr.com  
> http://twitter.com/petrichoria


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek's getting really sick of people asking how he's feeling

_He was on fire._

__

_He could hear yelling but it was muffled, distorted by a smothering shroud of pain and burning._

_“Did you bring it?”_

__

_“Where’s the lighter? Does anyone have a goddamned lighter?”_

__

_“Hang on, hang on, please just hang on…”_

__

_They faded in and out, he thinks he might have recognized them in another time._

__

_He coughs wetly, something thick and noxious bubbling at his lips._

__

_“Here! Give it here! Derek, don’t you fucking die on me.”_

__

_Something grinds into already open wounds, he becomes incandescent with pain._

__

_He screams._

\---------

****  


Gasping his eyes snap open.

He’s back in his living room.

He blinks a few times before he can convince his heart to slow down enough to realize that the remaining heaviness in his chest was in fact being cause by a tiny red haired girl. Laura was stretched out on her stomach across his chest, arms crossed under her head and brown eyes watching him curiously.

He stared for a second, hearing a quiet argument in the next room, until she drew up a hand cupping it to the side of her mouth and whispered “Did you have a bad dream?”

he nodded

She scooted up squirming under the blanket someone had left over his prone form, and tucked herself up against his side, her hair tickling his nose.

“I have those sometimes.” she confided to his shoulder, a tiny hand gripping his shirt.

“I’m sorry.” he murmured, threading an arm around her back.

“S’okay” she shrugged “I used to cry when I was little, but I know you and dad aren’t gonna give me back.”

He tensed “Give you back?”

She pushed herself up a little “To my first parents.”

“You know?”

“Duh, Dad. Boys can’t have babies.” the look that she levered at him was so 100% Lydia that it startled a laugh out of him.

Looking pleased with herself Laura burrowed back into the blankets pressing her face into his neck.

“Derek?” Stiles’ voice was quiet

“Yeah, I’m awake.”

Stiles circled the couch, perching on the coffee table across from him.

“How are you feeling?”

Derek sighed “Like if I hear one more variation of that question today, I might scream?”

Stiles grinned  “Fair enough.” he leaned forward rubbing his daughters back gently “Hey, Lo. Your grandpa’s about to break out some ice cream in the kitchen.”

The small girl’s interest piqued, but she squinted at him suspiciously.

“We’ll be along in a minute, I just need to talk to your dad first, okay?”

Her look darkened and she scooted to the edge of the couch pointing an accusatory finger at her other father. “Be nice. Daddy fainted today.”

Derek sunk into the cushions blushing, while Stiles bit off a laugh.

“I solemnly swear, Lo.”

She pointed with a second hand “Cross your heart?”

“Cross my heart.” He held up a hand as if swearing on an imaginary bible.

“Okay.” she jumped to her feet after giving Derek a peck on the cheek and dashed into the kitchen, not being one to turn down dessert before dinner time.

Stiles watched him expectantly.

“I didn’t faint.” he mumbled

The corner of Stiles’ mouth twitched. “Would you prefer swooned? Succumbed? Languished?”

Derek growled, but it only made Stiles laugh for a moment before sobering.

“Seriously tho, what happened? Dad said you just collapsed.” he tentatively touched the back of Derek’s hand.

He sighed “I’m fine, just tired I guess.”

Stiles frowned “Derek…”

“Stiles.”

Stiles blew a frustrated breath through his nose, drawing his hand back and standing abruptly.

“God, I forgot you used to be like this.” he paced running his hand through his hair.

“Like what?”

He spun gesturing to all of Derek, still reclining on the couch. “ _This!_ ” he hissed taking on the ‘Big Bad Alpha’ voice that Derek actually knew a little too well “Everything’s fine, Stiles. I don’t need help, Stiles. I enjoy living in a burnt out shack, Stiles. Electricity is overrated--”

“It was Erica.” He blurts out in an attempt to derail what was surely building up to a full blown freak out if Stiles’ heartbeat was any indication. “I… I thought I saw Erica.”

Stiles looked pained. “Derek, Erica is--”

“I know. I know, I...remember that.” he sat up slowly.

Stiles was silent for a moment before moving over to the couch, perching on an armrest and regarding Derek seriously.

“Do you think this is a traumatic brain injury thing, or a Nemeton thing?”

Derek blinked. “You believe she was really there?”

“I believe that you really saw her, this wouldn’t exactly be the first time someone in this pack was seeing ghosts.” he sighed getting up again to pace “Which, I might add, never leads to anything good.”

Derek levered himself off of the couch, moving after him “Stiles…”

“I’ll do some research, but we should probably call Scott and Lydia… maybe Deaton, just in case it’s--”

“Stiles!”

Derek positioned himself in the other man’s path, catching him in the circle of his arms to still him when they collided.

“Derek?”

“Calm down,” he huffed “I’m okay, we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

Some of the tension bled out of his shoulders as he tentatively wrapped his arms around Derek’s back, leaning into him. Derek ran a hand absently up and down his back as they stood, listening to Stiles’ heart slow.

“Thanks.” Stiles murmured after a moment “Just… thanks.”

“Anytime,” he smiled faintly, loosening his grip  “Besides, I have it on reasonably good authority that Stilinski men ‘hug it out’, so…”

Stiles laughed brightly pulling away and cocking his head towards the kitchen.

“Lunch?”

Derek nodded, moving to join the others in the kitchen, his arm bumping against Stiles’ as they walked.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Un-beta'd as per usual

Weeks passed, and Stiles’ research turned up nothing. No supernatural grumblings, no impending doom, nothing.

He tried not to be disappointed.

Derek went back to work, settling in to a life he wasn’t sure he deserved, but clutched greedily to his chest like a child. He had friends here, stability, he was well respected.

He ate tofu burgers on lunch with the greying sheriff, mirroring his look of disgust as Stiles quietly muffled his laughter before traipsing back off to his own job.

Stiles had moved back into the bedroom a few nights after Derek’s “fainting spell” as he liked to call it. He smiled easier, laughed freely, and teased Derek in the early hours of the morning when they woke up tangled together in each others limbs.

It created a warm spot inside of him that he was terrified of losing.

He didn’t tell Stiles when he saw Boyd in the produce section.

He didn’t react when he saw Allison watching him from beyond the jungle gym while they were on a playdate with Scott and his kids. 

He told himself that they weren't really there anyway.

\---

Laura was brilliant.

She was a tiny supernova of flying red hair, Stiles’ boundless energy and enthusiasm, tempered with Derek’s protectiveness and biting sarcasm. She was currently running around the back yard half shifted, playing with Scott and Kira’s twins while Stiles looked on fondly from where he had been in an animated conversation with Lydia by the grill. Something cold touched his cheek and he sucked in a breath turning sharply where he sat.

Scott smiled at him crookedly, an eyebrow quirked up, and gestured with the spare beer he was holding out plopping down beside him on the lawn once Derek took it.

They sat for a moment, drinking in companionable silence before Scott bumped his shoulder to Derek’s.

“You seem better.”

Derek quirked a half smile, picking at the damp label of his beer.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“Good,” Scott huffed “You deserve it, you know.”

He turned cocking his head.

“You do.”

“...okay?”

Scott huffed a breath “You just… you get this look sometimes, ever since the accident, like you can’t believe this is your life.”

Derek felt his face go hot and turned his gaze away uncomfortably as Scott continued.

“But this is your life, it’s your family, that you scraped together… or at least it could be.”

Derek frowned, “What?”

He looked up to find the yard suddenly empty.

“Wh--” he lurched to his feet spinning around, his heart hammering out of his chest “Stiles?!”

Swinging back to Scott he halted, heart almost stopping as the air was punched out of him.

Talia Hale occupied the space where Scott had been, her black hair tumbling over shoulders wrapped in a soft white sweater, toes peeking out from under a flowing skirt and buried in the soft grass. She watched him with dark warm eyes filled with pity as he sank to the ground, his legs no longer able to hold him.

“Mom…” he croaked. 

She reached out gently stroking the side of his face, his head throbbed.

“All of this could be yours, my beautiful boy.” she repeated with a soft smile “All you have to do is reach out and take it.”

“Mom, I…”

She shook her head and his apology died on his lips like ash, as she leaned in to gather him to her.

His chest burned when she hugged him tight whispering in his ear.

“Derek, remember.”

His head was swimming.

“You have to remember.”

Pain arched up his side, and everything went dark.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------

He heard voices, murmuring floating in through his consciousness but he couldn't understand the words.Very slowly Derek cracked his eyes open tracking a familiar ceiling in a darkened room. Night time.

He shifted slightly towards the warm light spilling in from the Stilinski’s kitchen before freezing, eyes slamming shut and spine stiffening against the flare of pain in his stomach and chest.

Someone startled at the groan he couldn’t quite suppress.

“Derek?” Stiles voice wavered uncertainly.

He squinted bringing a 17 year old Stiles Stilinski into focus, he frowned.

“Hey dude, welcome back.”

“Stiles?’

“Yup,” the teen nodded popping the ‘P’ as he grinned a little tightly “Got it in one.”

Derek blinked “Did I his my head again?”

Stiles gave him an odd look “Uh, maybe? I don’t know man, I was a little more concerned about how you were redecorating my dad’s living room in slasher movie chic than possible head trauma.” he nodded to a dark stain on the floor before frowning. “Is that something we should be worried about?”

He stood in a jerky frantic motion “Dude, can werewolves get concussions?”

The deja vu was almost painful as his mother’s words slammed into his muddled brain 

 

Remember…

“Oh my god, we shouldn’t have let you sleep, you probably have brain damage…” Stiles’ heartbeat jumped as he turned to leave “Deaton’s still here, I’ll--”

He broke off as Derek reached out and snagged his hand, tethering him by the couch.

“Stiles, I’m okay.”

“Uh, I’m pretty sure that’s not true, man.” he replied staring at their linked hands “A hunter  pumped you full of wolfbane a couple of hours ago, and you’re being weirdly handsy for you.”

He cleared his throat “Is this like a Kryptonite thing? Red wolfsbane makes you angry, pink wolfbane turns you--”

“ Stiles.”  he huffed “I’ll be okay, seriously. Just...stay with me?”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he blushed, settling down next to the couch as he tentatively ran his thumb across Derek’s knuckles. “Sure, man.”

Derek smiled gratefully, settling back into the couch cushions and shutting his eyes he focused on the slow brushing movement on his hand, mumbling a thanks as he drifted back off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I'm so sorry.  
> I haven't been able to write or draw anything for months it was the worst artistic block I have EVER HAD but hopefully it's over now.
> 
> Seriously tho. So Sorry.  
> You all are wonderful.  
> I'm probably going to make this into a series of fics because this ended up being kiiiiind of pre-slash? I guess? Anyway, yes. I'd like to write more in this universe.
> 
> Come visit me on tumblr: Bravehearttegan  
> or twitter @Petrichoria

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to harass me on twitter or tumblr about any of my stories ^_^
> 
> http://bravehearttegan.tumblr.com
> 
> http://twitter.com/petrichoria


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